The Pickens sentinel. [volume] (Pickens, S.C.) 1871-1903, 1887-07-07
A GRIZZLED STRANGER.
HE TELLS HOW HE MADE a MILE A
MINUTE ON HORSEBACK.
His Race Over tho Devils Track--why He


(From the New York SUM-
"Ive made mile minute on horse
back, in the saddle"
AS grizzled stranger with quartzite
pin made this remark, silence fell upon
the little group of turfmon who sat in
the corridor of tho Windsor Hotel, at
Denver, the other evening. The man
who had just told of driving on unre-
corded mile in 2:l1 arose deliberately,
brushed the ashes off his cigar, buttoned
his overcoat, and walked away. 81 am
liar, myself" somebody began.
"Hold on" said the stranger, "this
isn't a lie. It's cold, clammy truth, and
Ill back it with money"
"Have you the papers for it?"
"No, nor the judges aflidavits. In
fact, nobody saw it except myself, but if
you will permit me to tell you tho cir
cumstances, I'll leave it to yourself
whether it isn't a fact"
"Blaze away"
Tho group drew closer. Even the man
who had walked Off suspended his con-
versation with the hotel clerk and lis
tened on the quiet. The grizzled stran-
er removed q section Of tobacco from his
mouth and began:
'This happened five years ago last
fall. was living in Leadville ut the
time, but had mining interests that took
me frequently into the outlying districts
for radius of perhaps a dozen miles.
These trips L noarly always made on
horseback, on q tough little broncho,
hard mouthed, trained to mountain
roads, and capable of keeping up jog.
trot at pinch for twenty hours on
stretch. On the occasion in question L
started very early one clear, cold morn
| ing for claim L owned on the other
side of the divide, on the slope of what
is called Gold Mountain-you can find it
by looking on any map. 10 reach it l
had to first cross tennessee park and
then wind over very crooked, tortuous
trail that gradually assembled to pass
somewhere above Timber Pine. 1t was
not moro than two miles as tho crow
flies, but nine by the road, owing to the
frequent zigzagging or tacking made
necessary by the steeOness Of the range.
| "l took things easy, and it was about
noon when l reached the claim. / had
a couple of men at work there, ate din.
ner at their cabin, and then went over
to look at the shaft. One has no idea
how rapidly time passes underground,
where everything is dark, and when /
came up was surprised to find that it
was nearly 4 o'clock, and the shadows of
pimons hundred yards off had crawled
up to the windlass. L was annoyed, too,
for there was a suggestion of snow in the
air, and the ride across Tennessee park
in q storm-well, the less said about it
the better. So l lost no time in getting
into the saddle, and pushed rapidly
ahead toward the pass. / had to go
quite little distance before L reached
it, and all the time the sky grew graver,
and presently few flakes began to fall.
| urged the broncho, and finally began
the descent.
"The road beyond the pass led down
q long, straight incline for about quar-
ter Of mile. This took it to the fringes
tour of nearly two miles to get around O
spur of the range. At that point 1
paused. The idea occurred to me that [
could make short cut by going directly
over the spur and striking the trail on
the other side. The range was not par
ticularly steep at this place, but rather
q succession Of rough eminences, and the
undertaking did not seem to be accom-
panied by danger. A sudden raw wind
decided me. | turned the broncho off
the road and started.
'The plan appeared the moro feast
! bic as l advanced. What looked like
steep ascents at distance proved to be
gentle ones, and was soon pretty near
ly across. The spur WAS well wooded
| with old pine trees, some of which had
rotted as they lay, and on the far side
the declivity extended down at an oven
slope clear to the valley, where big rocks
and boulders looked like grains of blast
ing powder, and the road like q tiny
streak. l remember yet how, between
the tree tops, [ caught glimpse of the
park with the Arkansas river winding
through it, and the whole thing looking
like some map in my old geography.
That was the last thing that impressed
itself on my mind before my horse stag
gered, stumbled, plunged IA little, and
then came down with u crash, first on
his fore legs and then flat on his belly,
his head down hill. can't readily de-
scribe it, but he fell in such way that
my right leg, without being crushed or
even much bruised, was twisted in the
stirrup strap and caught fast.
"Rlght here let me stop to explain O
circumstance that will enable you to un-
derstand the situation. Down in the
valley, at the base Of Gold Mountain,
was sawmill owned by George Lacy,
of Leadville, and extending up from its
yard, almost to timber line, was what is
called log shoot. This is simply a
V-shaped trough, large enough to hold
a good sized pine trunk, and built solid
ly against the face of the mountain. OF
course it has to be straight, or nearly so
to permit the logs to slide down without
obstruction, and use soon makes the
inside as smooth as glass. Such o con-
trivance saves great deal of hauling,
for as the trees are cut, they are dragged
over and dumped into tho trough, and
go down to the yard like streak of
lighting. In tho course of time the
pressure will drive the trough in pretty
nearly level to the earth. This was the
case with the Lacy shoot. Moreover, it
had not been used for about year, and
pine needles, dead boughs, and other
rubbish had in places almost hidden Il